A/N: I'm so very sorry for the big delay with this chapter; it had been a pain to write and still, I am not 100% happy with the results. *headdesk*. Will you forgive me if I told you that I'm working on the next chapter as we speak and that I have claimed a prompt just for Caryl?

Thank you, thank you thank you to YouthINaisa6, Crowfeather's girl, Guest, LopezG (they will all meet, I promise!) and Jaded 79 (how is the Merle/Andrea fic going on?) and to the people who favored/followed this silly story!

Disclaimes: I don't own The Walking Dead and its characters, I'm just borrow them out of love and respect.

SMALL STEPS

Everything felt like an achievement: open her eyes every morning, make breakfast for Sophia, decide to stroll in the park or try a different route to work; everything was like a small victory earned after a great fight against herself. Jaqui, back at the safe house, had told her she would have felt this way, she had described Carol how, when she decided to leave her abusive husband, every single decision after that felt like fighting her way, like a toddler walking small steps towards its goal. She had used that phrase "Small steps Carol"; she always said that to help her fight her fears.

When she had ran from Ed she had no idea of what she was going to do with her life, she had been terrified by everything, not only the thought of Ed finding her and Sophia. Her freedom had been denied to her for so long, she had no idea of how using it. With Ed she did her chores and followed his orders because she had no other choice; when she had arrived at the safe house everything felt like a fight. She couldn't eat nor step out of the bed, even the air was a load on her chest, crushing her lugs; thankfully Jaqui rescued her. She really saved her life with her only advice "It is all about small steps Carol" and it was. She had just to convince herself, not that it was easy, and it still wasn't for her.

Every morning she had to force herself to open her eyes and start her day; the first seconds always felt like moving a mountain, but the pride she felt for herself when she managed to complete her quest, was worth it. For the first time in years, she could look at her reflection without hiding herself from her own gaze; she still had to put up with all the things the marriage with Ed had left behind and sometimes she could just hold her own gaze for a couple of seconds, but it was another small step. She didn't have to overdo it; that was what she learnt at the safe house: she didn't have to put herself under pressure, she was learning being herself again and she had the right to take all the time she needed, without judging herself if doing something stupid like cooking breakfast, felt like moving Sisyphus's rock.

Carol and Sophia had moved to Hellhole a couple of months ago. The name did little justice to the cute, small town. Carol didn't want to move in a place named that, at first, it wasn't in a place she had imagined starting a new life; she didn't have any choice though, it was far enough to be safe and there were people there ready to help her, people connected with the safe house. She accepted.

At the bus station, after a long ride, a young woman named Maggie welcomed the two of them. She was chatty and her younger sister linked with Sophia almost immediately. The younger Greene sister had a vague idea of who they were, it was Maggie who had taken care of everything. She had found a small house with a tiny garden and a white fence in the suburbia; she said it was on the way to her dad's farm. Luckily for Carol, Dr. Horvath needed a new secretary; did she want to step up for the role? Carol hesitated, all those news to process, she was scared, but in desperate need of money. She had managed to save some, mostly from a secret bank account her dad had opened for her, but they weren't going to last forever. She had to say yes, but again, she wasn't disappointed.

Dr. Horvath was a middle-aged man, widowed and fiercely in love with his job; he was almost seventy, but he still worked at the Atlanta hospital, ran his small clinic and visited his sick patients at home, if they couldn't move. He wasn't directly involved with the safe house, but he had seen his fair share of abuse, to abhor it and to be willing to help.

Carol's first week was horrible, she wasn't used to have all eyes on her and she was scared of making mistakes, and she did a couple of them, nothing too big but she was terrified of Dr. Horvath's reaction; he just smiled at Carol and told her that one time his late wife Irma had swapped Mrs. Blake analysis with ol' Big John's, the results? Big John thought he was pregnant ("He is a good guy- he had told her- but not the brightest of his class") and Mrs. Blake's prostate was doing well.

"How we laughed about that! - Dr. Horvath's eyes shone with memories "Even on her death bed my Irma laughed about it- he smiled- You are doing great Carol".

She had to excuse herself and go to the bathroom to cry, feeling the knot that was her stomach loosened a bit. She forced herself to smile at her reflection because her small mistake wasn't that important and, most of all, nobody could punish her anymore, if she was going to do something wrong.

Driving Sophia to the church summer park, Carol thought that the people from Hellhole should change the name of the town: a cozy place with a name like that, what an oxymoron! Sure, Hellhole was a small place, the kind of town where everybody knows everybody. The main street was the shopping street, mums still brought their children to the park and she didn't have to go to the mall to go grocery shopping, the store was next to Dr. Horvath's clinic; in short, the kind of town usually portrayed in movies. She could go to the cafeteria and hear the newest gossip or let Sophia walk to the Morales house to play with the girls, wasn't it a gulp of fresh air? Having her baby girl interact with other children of her age? Yes it was.

Carol was checking the stack of medical records neatly piled on the desk, she wanted to sort them out before the patients started coming in. The clinic had already computerize the whole archive, but Dr. Horvath couldn't use a computer to save his own life, so they kept a printed version of the records for the doctor to consult, the only downside effect was the enormous amount of paper involved, and the necessity to buy new cabinets and organize them in the only spare room. Currently, behind Carol's desk, were four full cabinets (they were in desperate need of new ones) and she was trying to figure out a way to put those new files there. Ignore the lack of space and just squash the things there will never work, right?She mused facing the cream-colored walls shaking her head; of course, being a neat person, it was just a wishful thinking. She could probably store them in one of the carton box and ask Dr. Horvath if she could threw the records of dead people into the bin, they had the computerize version, if needed.

Carol smiled to herself, her features lightening. She had never pictured herself at work again, free again. The feeling wad intoxicating, heady, sometimes, and scary. Again, all this freedom, all at the same time, she was deadly afraid of making mistakes, another time. Sophia had suffered enough because of her, because of her inanity; she mustn't fail her baby girl. Her Sophia wad going to be happy, serene and away from Ed!

The small bell rang, voicing the arriving of Andrea, the physiotherapist. She was a tall, blond girl, always wearing loose gym clothes and the expression of someone who knew his value; she wasn't unpleasant though. She worked with Dr. Horvath and doing some shifts at the Atlanta hospital, but mostly she treated the patients of Hellhole and from the nearby town. Carol was stunned by the number of people in need of Andrea's help, she soon learnt that between the rural and industry worker and the people hurt after domestic incidents, Andrea had her hands full.

Truth to be told, Carol was curious to know why a talented physiotherapist like her had chosen to retire herself in Hellhole. From the praise of Dr. Horvath Carol could imagine Andrea to be highly requested, all US hospital fighting over her and she was living in a small apartment over the grocery shop. Sometimes Carol thought she had worked up enough courage to ask, but in the end, she never did, fearing their budding friendship would broke.

Andrea had bought coffee, her other morning habit was opening the door using her shoulder, her cell wedged against one ear, her sister's loud voice coming out from the speaker.

Andrea smiled and Carol waved back, she held her hands to grab the cups, waiting patiently for Amy to finish her ramblings. Eventually Andrea managed to end the call and snorted

"What is it this morning?" Carol asked with a small smile

"Vibrators – Andrea sipped her coffee and made a face to a wide eyed Carol – don't even start!"

"I would never- she smiled again- although I'm quite curious, just saying" her smile widened

"It's for a birthday. Sunday one of her friends turns twenty-one, a vibrator is their gift and Amy is asking me for advices!"

"Give her my number" Carol said, calmly enjoying Andrea spurting her coffee out of her nose

"What? No!"

"It won't be a problem" Carol managed to keep her poker face for a couple of seconds more before a wide smirk wormed its way on her features.

The two women stared at each other and laughed again. Carol was happy; those were the kind of things people took for granted, she mused, laughing about vibrators with a friend. She had another fit of giggles and didn't even think about all those times Ed had suffocated her happiness; for once, her mind didn't go there and she realized it only hours after.

"All right – Andrea helped her cleaning all the spurted coffee – whose bones do I have to crack today?"

Carol simply handed her the list and checked the payments on the computer. She used to be an utter 'n00b',as Sophia had once said, but she was learning all those Internet stuff; she had to admit they were quite cool and useful, like this 'home banking' thing: just one click and the bill situation of the clinic was in front of her eyes, she didn't need to queue anymore, what a relief!

"Oh no! Not him again!" Andrea huffed and banged her head on the table

"Who?" she lounged towards her

"Merle Dixon, I hate him".

Carol furrowed her brows at the answer, the redneck, the utterly unpleasant one-handed redneck.

Carol prided herself for not being a closed-minded person. Sure, she was mousy and a bit shy, but she had always tried to avoid judging people. With Merle she had to do an exception; the man was unpleasant (she had been Ed Peletier's wife for fifteen years, she knew an awful lot about unpleasantness), coarse and allergic to soap. He never thanked Andrea or, at least, tried to be gentle or pretended not to be the poster boy for redneckdness. Moreover, his therapy had just begun and, judging from the medical record, Andrea was going to have him as a patient for, at least, six months, three days per week.

"I can't stand him too" he made her think of Ed; those two shared the same indifference to the other people, they just crunched them under their feet, and they loved every single second of it.

Merle had a sly aura around him that made her shudder; he had come three times already, and she had to fight the urge to go away, grab Sophia and run to Alaska. Because of her job, Andrea had to touch him and Carol felt her stomach churn at the mere thought. Poor Andrea had to feel with her hands those layers of grim, three days per week, while that man probably stared at her cleavage, saying crude things to her, Carol imagined. Not that Andrea needed any rescue; Carol had witnessed grown up men cry after a session with Andrea, who could, obviously, fight Merle back, if not with her words, using her knowledge. Still, the mother in Carol cringed at the thought of Andrea alone with Merle Dixon, for an entire hour. Carol stiffened as Andrea's mobile went off. The younger woman checked her text messages and huffed

"Oh please!"

"What's wrong?"

"It's my sister, again. My God, she is so clinging sometimes!"

"Don't be so hard with her. This is her first year away from home"

"I wasn't like her, I barely returned home every summer!"

"And never asked for info concerning vibrators" said Carol

"Of course not, I bought it all by myself!" It was Carol's time to choke on her coffee while laughing.

Dr. Horvath got in and just rose is prominent eyebrows at the laughing women: he didn't want to know what had caused the hilarity; when it came to the female population he firmly believed that some things should be left unsaid.